


Nothing Short of Cupid

by screamoffkey



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Matchmaking, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Unrequited, idk im bad at tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-05-13 20:11:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19258354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamoffkey/pseuds/screamoffkey
Summary: Shepherds who fight together seem to end up together. So, Chrom enlists Robin's help to set him up with someone on the battlefield, but doing so will force them both to confront feelings they'd rather not deal with.





	1. Can Never Catch the Clues

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during the Plegian War, some ambiguous time after the assasination attempt, but before Emmryn dies, btw

“So… I hear you’re quite the matchmaker, Robin.”

“Uh… Excuse me?”

 

Robin hardly looked up from his maps. It was the dead of night, and he was barely able to keep his aching head from slumping onto the table from pure exhaustion. He was nearly through his fifth revisions for the next march, making sure everything was perfect, when Chrom had pushed open his tent flap and plopped down beside him.

And, even for Chrom – you could rarely guess what bizarre sentence he would utter at any given time – this was an odd start to a 2 a.m. conversation. The prince leaned in closer to Robin, locking vibrant blue eyes with tired brown in the uncertain light of a dying oil lamp, as if he were about to whisper a military secret to his tactician. Chrom rarely had regards for Robin’s personal space, but the way his warm breath brushed against Robin’s lips felt particularly intimate. He started speaking again.

 

“Don’t play coy with me Robin. Is it just a coincidence that Lissa and Lon’qu have been paired together in the last three battles?”

“Well, they complement each other, strategically speaking.” Robin found his cheeks getting red at the obvious lie. Lissa wasn’t fast enough to keep up with Lon’qu’s sword strikes, and the stoic swordsman was poorly suited to play nurse when Lissa was healing comrades. As Chrom smiled expectantly at the response, one step ahead of him, Robin knew this was a verbal chess match he was far too tired to win.

“Of course, of course… So, that’s why they’ve been spending so much time together during marches and campouts, huh? I’ve even seen them keep watch together.” Chrom chuckled softly, soft sarcasm lacing his voice.

The white-haired man was trying his best to avoid eye contact, but with Chrom so close, there little in his line of sight besides the prince’s face. Those piercing blue eyes that shot arrows through his obvious lies, those eyebrows arced expectantly – electrified by amusement and suspicion, that jawline so sharp it could cut through a general’s armor: Robin’s mental army was being torn to shreds by just how _damn pretty_ his adversary was.

 

“Well, Chrom, I’m just the tactician. I’m not in charge of who soldiers choose to spend time with during their leisure hours.”  He replied, lamely.

 

Chrom flashed him a champion smile, the same he flashed when he finishes felling a risen general. “True. But _a little birdie_ _told me_ that Lon’qu believed he was assigned to protect Lissa from alleged threats to her life, ‘as per Captain Chrom’s orders’… Now, unless there’s another Chrom in this army that I’m not acquainted with…” His eyebrows were raised comically high for effect, and it’d be adorable if Robin wasn’t absolutely petrified. Robin had more than a feeling that the _little birdie_ who ratted him out was the same one who enlisted his help in the first place.

 

If Robin’s face wasn’t red before, he was certain it was now. Chrom gave him a little wink that said _checkmate_ , and leaned back out of Robin’s personal space, gently resting his chin in hand… patiently awaiting Robin’s response.

 _Be a good friend, Robin! Help Lissa out with her crush, Robin! What could possibly go wrong, Robin!?_ He mocked himself in his head. Is this truly what he deserves for helping out his dear friend? He’d curse destiny for his poor fortune if he believed in it.

 

After a long, awkward pause between the two men, Robin split the stiff air. “If you’re upset with me for pairing off your sister, I assure you it was all her idea.” _Two can play this game_ , _Lissa_ he thought vindictively. _If I’m going down, you’re coming with me._

Chrom frowned slightly, and Robin immediately realized that he’d misread this conversation.

 “No, uh, it’s not that. I’m really happy for Lissa, she’s been in the best spirits I’ve seen in months. And, Lon’qu could certainly use some of her carefree energy.” Chrom started fiddling mindlessly with the fringes of the maps on the desk, a clear tell that he was growing more anxious as he approached the beginning of the real reason for which he’d come to Robin.

“Then, if not to declare me a traitor to your brotherly intentions, what has got you sneaking into my room at this hour?”

 

He watched his friend grow uncharacteristically stiff, and he got the distinct notion that this conversation’s scales were being tipped towards his favor.

“It just… er, seeing how you’re in charge of all the battle strategies, and have a lot of input of the patrol shifts and all... It seems that you know would know everyone all of the Shepherd quite well, so…”

 Robin stared patiently at the man in front of him. For whatever reason, he couldn’t yet parse exactly what his friend was trying to say. He would blame it on tiredness later, that it caught him completely off guard when Chrom finally blurted out:

 “I want you to set me up with someone.”

Robin fell out of his stool. He clattered hard against the floor like a flung hand axe. He peeked up to see an alarmed prince scramble out of his seat to help him up.

Chrom hurriedly stuttered out, justifying himself. “It’s just!! – You know me better than anyone else! And, you know how hopeless I am when it comes to matters of love! I can never seem to catch the clues.” He offered a hand and a lopsided grin, warbled with nerves, as he hoisted the slender Plegian back onto his feet.

With their hands still interlocked in a firm clasp that rested between them a sort of truce, they were still so close that Robin wondered idly if his heart splintering into pieces could be heard by the man only inches away from him. _You really never can catch the clues, can you Chrom?_

 

Robin must be quite the actor, because with a determined smile, he quipped.

“Of course, I’ll help you find someone Chrom. But, I will need you to stop professing how bad you are at love. I’m sure it’s not what ladies want to hear when you’re courting them.” He laughed as a now blushing Chrom nodded eagerly in agreement.

 

And so, with an excited hug from his best friend, and a smiling bid goodnight, it was settled: Robin was to play matchmaker for the love of his life.


	2. Not Princess Material

“ROBIN!!”

Robin swiveled on his heel to meet the angry roar of a woman running up behind him. His gut told him that he should sprint away from the furious voice, but upon identifying the woman hurtling towards him as Sully, his better judgement realized that his scrawny legs would never be able to outpace her. For a half-second, he thought about how it was a shame that she was hell-bent on staying on a horse, because the Shepherds could definitely use more agile foot soldiers for scouti-

And then, a hand clamped down on his shoulder, and he was fearing for his life once again. A Sully scorned could and would snap the tactician in half if she felt she had enough of a reason.

He gulped, steeling his voice. “Yes?”

He tried to put on a pleasant smile, but he could feel the beginning of a nervous sweat forming on his brow. Sully rolled her eyes at Robin’s faux-innocent tone.

“You’ve _gotta’_ be shitting me, right? Please Gods, tell me that you’re fucking with me.”

“What are you talking about, Sully?” Playing dumb was quickly becoming the genius tactician’s go-to defense mechanism.

“Chrom, you dipshit!! He’s been acting all lovey-dovey ever since you paired us up together in the last battle, talking about dinners together and moonlight walks and shit. It’s fucking awful! Robin: he fucking held a door open for me! If he wasn’t the damn prince I’d have a mind to shove that door right up his-”

“Sully!!”

“Alright, alright. Look, Chrom is one of my best friends and all, but I need to make it _very_ clear to him that I ain’t Princess material. Got it?”

 “Yeah Sully, I get it… but, what exactly do you expect me to do about it?”

She was glad he asked, because Sully told Robin _exactly_ what he could go and tell Chrom if he tried to even _mention_ romance around her again.

*

So, the next morning, it was with great hesitancy that he knocked on room that had been assigned as the Prince’s quarters at the tiny inn they were currently occupying. He entered slowly, and despite Chrom’s eager beckoning, positioned himself by cautiously leaning against the door frame in a manner that he hoped would seem casual but also allow for an exceptionally quick exit if things went sour.

 

“Good morning, Robin! I hope you rested well?” An easy smile spread across his still sleep-laced expression; he had just woken up and was still in his sleepwear, his night shirt unbuttoned and revealing an unholy sliver of his chiseled torso. His eyes were drowsy and soft and blue and dopey as he looked up at his friend, and a blushing Robin paused to question how it was even possible that Sully wasn’t willing to fall madly in love with someone who could look at her like _this_.

“I– uh, slept well, thank you. We’ll have to be sure to extend our deepest thank you to the innkeeper who was willing to host so many of us.” He managed, after mustering his thoughts together into something more decent.

 

Chrom hummed pleasantly in agreement and did comment further. He was waiting for Robin to begin discussing whatever he had come in to talk about, and Robin could tell he was waiting for whether the topic of discussion was serious or not before settling fully into his pleasant mood. Robin or Chrom wandering into the other’s room first thing in the morning wasn’t a particularly uncommon thing, be it to discuss war strategies, make plans for their days between marches, or just to shoot the shit. In fact, one of Robin’s favorite memories with Chrom was the time they had talked through breakfast _and_ lunch debating whether they’d rather be a Manakete or a Taguel. But, he wasn’t expecting this conversation to be remembered nearly as fondly by either parties.

“So, I hear from Sully that you’ve started courting her after the last battle?”

Realizing the conversation was one about matters of love rather than war, Robin watched his friend’s face light up, radiating excitement from his boyish smile; he so clearly thought he was doing an exceptional job catching the woman’s fancy, and Robin had to fend off the grimace that was threatening to usurp his own pleasant expression.

“Ah, yes I have! And, I cannot thank you enough for using some of your strategic genius on my personal life. I must admit that I’d certainly never considered her in a romantic manner before you suggested it to me. So, tell me! What did she say? Spare no details, Robin!”

“Well…” The creaking floorboards at the entrance of his friend’s room seemed to be the most interesting thing in the world at the moment, because Robin’s eyes didn’t stray from them, when in a voice no louder than the creaking itself, he mumbled.

“Uh… her exact words were, uh, to ‘tell Chrom to fuck off with this courting shite before I shove that Falchion right up his Exalted arse.”

 

…Ah yes, Sully always did have a knack for poetry.

 

The sunny, lopsided smile fell off Chrom’s face in an instant, blushing from the sheer vulgarity coming from Robin’s typically diplomatic mouth; he instinctively put a delicate hand on his chest as though he were checking the damage of an arrow wound. The look that formed on his face was a potion crafted of shock, hurt, and a healthy dose of pure fear. Robin began to question whether honesty was truly the best approach for this, but he had given Sully his word that he would deliver the message in no uncertain terms.

 

Suddenly, Chrom flopped onto his back, laying flat on the bed once again, and releasing a loud, overdramatic, groan. The bandage was ripped off, and Robin slowly crept into the room. He perched delicately at foot of Chrom’s bed, but almost immediately Chrom tugged at his arm and pulled him to lie down beside him,

 

It was intimate to be sure, lying in bed with the prince, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, but certainly not the most compromising position Robin had found himself pulled into by Chrom; he wasn’t even sure if this cracked the top ten. He’s been given piggy-back rides across camp when he wounded his ankle, plopped onto a slightly tipsy Chrom’s lap in the middle of a Feroxi banquet, and practiced waltzing in his royal chambers when preparing for the Peace Ball, a diplomacy gala now cancelled because of the Plegia crisis. Being pressed snuggly against the prince of Ylisse’s arm felt far more like home to Robin than it had any right to, but that didn’t stop a sly blush form creeping up onto his pale skin, and it certainly didn’t stop Robin from nuzzling just slightly into his unrightful place at his friend’s side.

Chrom turned his head to Robin with a chuckle, cheeks still rosy with embarrassment. “I’ll have to avoid her for ages now, won’t I?”

“I’ll see to it that you two are positioned on opposite sides of all military operations. That may not be the best military strategy, but I’d rather you die at the hands of brigands than choke on your own awkwardness.”

Chrom laughed at that, and Robin could feel the vibrations buzz in his head. Chrom was fiddling with some stray strand of ripped fabric at the cuffs of the mage’s cloak sleeves, a nervous habit that meant he was about to say something of which he was unsure.

“…Is it wrong that I’m not upset? I mean – I’m certainly not _happy_ that my advances were so poorly received – but, can you _imagine_ Sully and me _dating_? I can’t shake the feeling that this is all for the best.”

Robin met his laughter with a soft grin, “Well, _I_ thought you would have been perfect together. You guys have so much in common!”

Chrom raised his eyebrows at the comment, and thought about it, before laughing again.

“I think that may have been the issue, actually. We’re cut from the same cloth. She doesn’t need more any more Sully in her life, and I certainly don’t need more Chrom.” He paused for a breath. “I think I need someone by my side who’s everything I’m not: someone smarter, and more patient, and thoughtful…” The man trailed off, and Robin looked over to his friend’s face to see him staring steadfastly up at the ceiling, tracing the pattern-less cracks and creases on the roof as he twiddled the frays of Robin’s coat with his hand, fingers brushing up against Robin’s wirst.

Robin wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, and teased. “It sounds like you’ve got someone in mind.”

“…maybe I do.”

Robin faltered for just a second, before asking softly. “Then, why am I playing cupid for you, Chrom?”

Chrom rolled over, to his side to fully face Robin, leaving them facing each other, with noses only a few centimeters apart. He had a funny look in his eyes that Robin couldn’t quite place when he said,

“Because I think that maybe finding someone else is in everyone’s best interest.” He continued with a confident smile, “And, because I trust your judgement far better than my own, Robin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooh the ~drama~ is heating up. Hope y'all like it <3


	3. I Don’t Think I’m Going to Get a Happy Ending

Robin tried to keep reading, he really did. His eyes must have danced over the paragraph about the prince catching his lover unaware in the steam room a dozen times without grasping any of the details. It was difficult to focus on anything besides the intent way that Sumia, who had been splayed out on the grass beside him, was now staring at him. Her friendly eyes were narrowed, studying the white-haired man, as though he were a complicated battle strategy she was trying to wrap her head around.

“I’m sorry Robin.” Sumia shut her book definitively and sat up beside him. “I just don’t understand what you’re trying to do.”

“Well, Sumia, I thought we were both trying to read _Ribald Tales of the Faith War_?” He flicked his eyes back down to the book set on his lap for effect.

Robin and Sumia had formed their make-shift book club months ago and had tackled around a dozen books together thus far. Robin loved any excuse to ramble endlessly about literature, and Sumia seemed to like the escape from the mundanity of the day-to-day. The pair had become close through reading together. Perhaps a bit too close, as their choices in books had gotten less sophisticated and more lewd as they grew more comfortable around each other. Now, it was hardly unusual for two of the most modest shepherds to whisper jokes between each other that would make Vaike blush, and probably give Maribelle a stroke. Today however, she seemed to choose cryptic sentences over their usually brash rapport.

“It’s not that. I mean, it’s about this upcoming battle…” She trailed off softly, hoping he would understand what she meant. He didn’t.

After an awkward moment of silence, she sighed softly, and continued, in a voice just above a whisper, “Why are you pairing me with Prince Chrom?”

“You two fought together back at Ferox, and you were a great team. Is there a concern that I should take note of?”

She hesitated, and looked off to lazy sky, choosing words out of the cloud patterns and lingering daylight. “I think… it’s more fitting to say that _I’ve_ taken note of something. I know that you’re trying to find an eligible bachelorette for him, but I’m not going fill that role.”

It was pointless to deny his intentions. If both Sully and Sumia had caught on, then he was clearly not as deft of a matchmaker as Chrom had hoped. “I’m sorry Sumia, I wasn’t aware that you had no interest in Chrom. I’ll make sure that he is aware of that before we begin our march tomorrow.”

 “No, it’s not that. Well, I mean, it _is_ that, because Prince Chrom and I are _just_ friends, though I know that some people don’t seem to think so… and, now that I think of it, I’m sure if he’d consider someone as plain as me a friend, but I mean…” She fluttered and fumbled over her patter, trying to find the point in her own sentence. “What I’m _trying_ to say is, I wouldn’t do that to you, Robin. I know how you feel about him.”

He froze. It was beyond incriminating that he didn’t even try to shrug it off, but he couldn’t force himself. He just prayed to Naga that _maybe_ she wasn’t saying what he thought she was saying.

Then, she simply placed a careful hand on his knee, and it became crushingly clear that they were on the same page for the first time since this conversation started. Robin felt exposed in a way he hadn’t known possible. _She knew._ _Oh gods, she knew everything_.

His stomach churned like a hex had been cast upon him, and he struggled to fight the tears that were suddenly and riotously welling in his eyes. It was a terrifying to be seen for what he was: a man in love with another man, a lovesick fool, a disgusting coward trying to run away from the things that scared him most. But, the way Sumia looked at him wasn’t the revulsion he feared, it was the way she looked at her Pegasus when he was injured – gentle but commanding, certain and empathetic – Sumia was an expert at understanding animals, interpreting quiet whines from beasts who couldn’t (or wouldn’t) say why they were hurting. He shouldn’t be shocked that she heard his aching heart. There wasn’t really a point in denying it, was there?

 “You’re right, OK?” He heard his voice crack and quaver around the quiet admission. “But, Sumia, this isn’t a novel. I –” Robin tried to start, but his emotions surged, and he choked on a sob that had forced itself out. He found her arms wrapped around him, brushing his hair softly, soothingly. He instinctively leaned into her grasp. He couldn’t control his tears anymore. Months upon months of hesitations and fears and reservations poured out, and he cried on Sumia’s shoulder until he felt ready to say, weakly.

“Sumia… I don’t think I’m going to get a happy ending.” A sob, then, “Please, Sumia, I need _someone_ make me realize that it just isn’t a possibility.”

 

She pulled back from the hug, to face the crying boy that was slumped in her arms, brown eyes full of worry and glimmering with tears of her own.

“You deserve to try, Robin. So, no. I’m not going to do that to you. Just give yourself a chance.”

Robin lost all composure he had remaining and cried in his friend’s comforting arms until what was left of evening light sauntered away.

*

It was night when they left, and Robin had pulled apart about a hundred petals from their flower, with Sumia’s prophetic guidance. The jury of daffodils was hung on whether Chrom felt the same way about Robin. He was feeling better, he hadn’t realized how the secret had constricted him until he’d been honest with someone; he felt like he could exhale for the first time in his known memory. But, the ambiguity that the flowers forecasted for him sat like a rock in his stomach.

He chuckled quietly, “I should’ve really known better, but I was still hoping for a sign. Some foreshadowing would really help me sleep at night.”

Sumia stood up, and pulled the man out of his bittersweet moping in the grass.

“I probably should have told you that these things hardly ever work. Fate doesn’t like to show her hand; it makes the ending so much more dramatic!” Her airy laugh was contagious, and Robin found himself joining his friend in the giggles. And, despite themselves, they made ribald jokes about Robin and his prince as they headed back into camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed!


	4. Paralogues: Excerpts from the Top Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in chapter two, Robin mentions a few particularly intimate memories between Chrom and him, and I wanted to expand them into tiny one-shots that aren't particularly pertinent to the main story, but are fun lil bonuses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oop... they're back.
> 
> I wanted to rewrite parts of these mini pieces because I wasn't too proud of them the first time around. But after a few revisions, I'm a lot more happy to post these versions.

With the frequency and precision that he managed to trip over absolutely nothing, you’d think Robin took a master-class on clumsiness from Sumia. You take _one_ arrow to the ankle, and suddenly, walking becomes as hard as wielding a silver lance.

With an unceremonious _thunk_ , he fell… again.

Chrom crouched over him, eyes pouring concern over Robin.

“Ankle wound still troubling you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Hop on my back. You can ride me to the medic’s tent.”

 _Did he even hear the words he was saying!?_ “I absolutely will not!!”

“Or, I could scoop you up like a bride. Choice is yours, but I think there’s more dignity in the former.”

After a passionate but shoddy attempt at wounded resistance from Robin, Chrom swept his ‘bride’ of his feet and into strong arms. Robin, to his credit, had fought off the prince’s unwanted help about as well as he fought the blush off his face, and a bright red Robin buried his face in Chrom’s chest to avoid eye contact with any passing Shepherds.

Chrom was getting a kick out of seeing his friend so flustered. He hummed a wedding march in his copanion’s ear as he took the ‘scenic route’ to Lissa’s tent.

**

 

ok… so maybe i _was_ drunk. is this my first time? at the very least, i can’t remember another time when i’ve had this much to drink – _then again, i’m not really known for remembering much, am i?_ when you’re drunk, you forget things. at least, that’s what vaike always claims the next morning after breaking something. maybe i’d been drunk all my life and that’s why i can’t recall a thing. if so, i’ve lived a good life. because this feels… _so_ good.

 

in any case, i hope i remember this night. everything about it. the roar of conversation amongst the shepherds as we eat with the feroxi we just bested in combat. warm laughter, warm welcomes, warm food, for the first time in weeks of marching.

 

feroxi is different than ylisse. khans dine alongside hired swords and foreign soldiers. and, chrom fits right in. especially when he’s drunk: he’s never been one for formalities like titles or traditions.

 _or personal space, apparently._ he’s an affectionate drunk, which must be why he’s pulled me onto his lap from where i was sitting. his chest pressed into my back and his arm wrapped around my waist and his chin rested in the crook of my neck. he and lissa are chatting and laughing. he’s whispering in my ear, but i know he’s not saying everything he wants to say, because he's playing with the buttons on my coat again.

 

basillio whoops and hollers at the sight of us. but, the shepherds don't seem to understand what he’s implying. feroxi is different than ylisse: these… _sorts of things_ … can happen there. but, these _sorts of things_ are not to happen when we return home or when we’re sober or when i finally remember that titles and traditions and personal space all matter very much to the people of ylisse, regardless of what i want to think.

 

and i hope to the gods that i remember that tomorrow.

**

 

It was pitch black in the royal chambers. Dead of night. If one were attempting to watch the two men in the prince’s room, their eyes would only find darkness. Their ears, however, would pick up lowered voices murmuring in the quiet.

“Come over here. I can teach you.”

“Chrom, I’m trying to make a _good_ first impression on the Ylissean court. I’m not sure if it’ll be looked well upon if I dance the woman’s part during Emmryn’s ball.”

_A chuckle_

“I’ve watched two sisters practice endlessly for their Debuts. I know both parts by heart, I assure you. You can lead.” _A clearing throat, then._

“Now, I’m not much of a singer, but we need a tune, so…”

_A low hum that buzzed through the room softly, a simple Ylissean tune that bobbed and lulled at a patient ¾ time._

A second voice joined in, hesitantly but methodically counted out the measures, growing more confident as it fell into the grooves of the rhythm. o _ne two three, one two thee. one two three, one two thee._

“See! You’re a natural. Is there anything you can’t do?”

_A patient silence between the two. Nothing more than the steady humming and waltzing footsteps that pattered around the dark room._

“We’re great together, aren’t we? Maybe you should save me a dance on the night of the gala.”

“In front of everyone? I think I’d lose my footing from nerves.”

_A chuckle._

“Here, let’s try a spin.”

_A stumble. Two separate bodies clunking against hard wood. Giggles bubbling from two voices: gentle, but brimming._

Maybe there were things you couldn’t see between the two men who danced last night, and maybe there were things left unsaid that you couldn’t hear. But, even if they were not observed in full by a passerby, or Chrom, or Robin, those certainties unobserved were as present as they were inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the final paralogue, then we return to our regularly scheduled programming. Thanks for being patient as I try to experiment with my writing xoxo


	5. Paralogue: Number One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The most intimate moment the two have shared, to date.

“I dreamt of you last night.”  Was the first thing Chrom said to his friend as he pushed open the flap of the tent. It was early morning, and Robin was flinging his bulky coat over his slender shoulders when he turned to greet the prince who had so ignobly burst into his quarters without so much as a knock.

 

Robin smiled at the welcome intrusion. “How funny. You were in my dream too, Chrom.” He conveniently left out the bit about how he dreamt of Chrom every night. _Usually of killing him with an arcthunder_ , but that certainly didn’t feel pertinent to mention.

 

Chrom’s smile widened, and he quipped, “I’d be a fool to think it something other than fate!”

He was immediately met with a pointed look from his tactician that said _I’m not having this debate with you again_. Robin knew the man well enough to know he was about to start spouting paragraphs of pegasus dung about fate or destiny or something of that nature. Destiny was something that Ylisseans, and Chrom especially, seemed to hold dearly to their beliefs, and its existence was the rare example of a topic on which Robin and Chrom disagreed strongly.

Chrom rolled his eyes playfully at the disapproving scowl. He entered further into the tent and swung himself onto Robin’s desk, crumpling maps underneath his thighs.

 “Fine, fine. Do you want to hear the dream, or not?”

 “Of course, I do.”

“Well, it began when we found you in the meadow…” Chrom started, wistfulness beginning to cloud his eyes like he was lazing himself back to sleep, back into the dream.

“You were lying in the grass, looking quite peaceful. So peaceful in fact, that I decided that instead of helping you up, I’d be better off laying down and napping alongside you. I told Lissa and Frederick to go on ahead without me, that I was just going to rest my eyes for a moment, and I would catch up with them in a moment. But, somehow, when I awoke from the nap, I was no longer a prince, or commander of the Shepherds, or anything like that… I was just plain old Chrom, just another villager. It was as if, instead of dragging you into my world of woes and war, you and I had escaped from it all... We settled down together in a little cot in that tiny village and raised sheep, just like real shepherds! We didn’t so much as see a single drop of blood throughout this whole damned war.”

 

“Wait you mean we– uh, ‘settled down…’ _together?_ ” Robin coughed awkwardly, feeling heat rise in his cheeks.

 

Chrom furrowed his brows slightly, and face heated up. Robin immediately felt a little guilty for making his friend question a dream of which he was so clearly fond.

“Huh. I, uh, suppose so… I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Chrom shrugged simply. “We were certainly side-by-side: partners in everything, the same way we are now.” Robin decided to shrug along.

With the easy smile reemerging on his face, he began once again to recount tiny details of the dream: the way the meadow outside their cottage was flecked with indigo flowers; the pride that swelled in his heart when he gave some soldiers a vulnery when they knocked on his door; the way one of the duller rams in their flock reminded him precisely of Vaike. The prince was a vivid dreamer, and that world in hues of blues and silvers he’d seen began to unfold itself in the empty space of Robin’s quarters. And, if he noticed the way Robin’s expression seemed to melt into something as soft and yearning as his own, he didn’t comment on it.

 

And, maybe it was silly that this was what Robin considered this the most intimate moment of their friendship. They were feet apart and talking of a silly dream that shimmered and faded at the subconscious’ whim. Robin knew that random ruminations of the night had little effect on the waking world, and he was sure that life was governed by choice and chance, not some scripted fate.

But, even if only in Chrom’s imagination, that there was a parallel universe, _a destiny_ even, where the two men’s paths had intertwined, and everything had turned out perfectly… well, that’s the most compelling argument he’s ever heard in fate’s favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> double paralogue update bc i haven't finished writing the next actual chapter :)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really bad at finishing fics, so I basically drafted this entire one before I started posting! I'll try to polish the drafts and post new chapters weekly. I feel like FE characters can sometimes be hard to write, so I'm still working on honing my voice for each character. Comments and critiques are always appreciated!


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